


Ranunculaceae

by SevenSwans



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cole - Freeform, F/M, Gardening, Slow Build, making new friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:45:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3680175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevenSwans/pseuds/SevenSwans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A garden requires patient labor and attention. Plants do not grow merely to satisfy ambitions or fulfil good intentions. They thrive because someone expended effort on them." - Liberty Hyde Bailey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ranunculaceae

Cold.

Her nose felt cold. That was the first sensation she became aware of as her mind began the process of rousing her for the day. Ruby snuffled, and pulled the coarse blanket higher over her face, trying to shut the oncoming day out for a moment. She became aware of the sounds of people shuffling and coming to around her as her hearing seemed to come into effect, in similar states of grogginess. By this point her body, if not her mind, had begun the process of coming to. Mentally cursing, she prepared herself to throw off the blanket, gasping as she threw it away in shock. It felt as though someone had thrown a bucket of water over her.

Across the room, a woman's voice called across to her.

“Nice to see you return from the fade at last! Any later and Tanner would have had your hide, like as much!”

The woman received a sleepy, slightly annoyed grumble in return. Ruby had never particularly been a morning person, even living at home.

“Come, let's be having you, you haven't all day!”

Ruby stretched her arms out lazily, arching her back in a feline manner in an attempt to stretch the stiffness from her limbs. Hastily throwing an overcoat on top of her nightgown, she crossed the chilly stone floor to the shared basin, and dipped her hands into the fresh water, splashing it across her face in an attempt to banish the last of her sleep.

“Morag, I will never understand how you have so much energy in the morning. Not ever. You or Felicity.” The occupant of the third bed of the room merely started to whistle a jaunty tune as she dressed.

The woman named Morag laughed loudly. She was a year or so younger than Ruby, and worked in the kitchens as assistant to the head cook. She was immensely proud of this fact.

“Greet the day with a smile, that'll have you chewing at the bit to get going! See if it don't.” Her voice was lilting, a slight burr present. She grinned cheerily, and Ruby found that she couldn't prevent herself from doing so as well, the corners of her mouth curving upwards in a small copy in spite of herself.

“Maybe...but I'd rather get up on my own time. I was having the most wonderful dream too...” Ruby exhaled wistfully, only able recall visions of well cooked dinners as the last vestiges of sleep died away.

She washed quickly, wanting to dress as quickly as she could in order to regain her bodily warmth. After recovering her clothes, thrown carelessly across the end of her sleeping pallet, she did so. An oversized thick, plain hooded smock over breeches, dark green in colour that served to mark her as one of the grounds keeping staff, and heavy boots that required two pairs of socks in order to keep the water out and her feet warm. She tied a slightly dirty apron around her waist, that had a large pocket in front. She hastily combed through her thick hair with her fingers, trying to untangle the mess of curls it had become overnight. She winced, drawing air through clenched teeth as she encountered snags. Hair parted into two sections, she wove it into two long braids and securing them with leather ties. She went to examine herself in the grubby looking-glass she shared with the two other women living in this room, trying to ignore how pale she looked in the morning light. It served only to make the faint freckles across her skin stand out. Hair was already escaping from her braids where it was too short to stay in place, and she sighed in defeat. Her hair seemed to have a mind of its own this morning.

Behind her she could see Morag rolling her hair into an elegant bun, securing it at the nape of her long neck. Morag caught her eye and gave her an impish look.

“'Ere, don't worry about it, it's not like you're out to impress anyone is it?”

Ruby gave a short bark of surprised laughter.

“Charming! You're such a sweetheart, oh Morag.”

The younger girl gave her a wink in return and jerked her head to the small side table, where several small rolls and some dried meat were laid out. “Best eat and get movin' Ruby love, else you really will be late!”

She sighed as Morag and Felicity swept out of the room, talking amongst themselves. She did not doubt that their work was hard, but at least they had each others company. There were not yet many on the grounds keeping staff, as had been made evident by her rapid appointment. Within the first year of the Inquisition's occupation of Skyhold it hadn't seemed a necessity to deal with the overgrown and brackish plantlife that had taken root. Now that the Breach had been dealt with, there still remained a need for the Inquisition, and so the need for the estate of Skyhold to be maintained.

As the first bell of the day rang out, Ruby ate a hasty breakfast and then hurried along to the gardens.

Early spring in Skyhold was much like anywhere else in Thedas. The long, cold nights of winter were beginning to give way to the frost-tinted but clear mornings of the new season. Crisp morning air brought with it the first hints of new life. The people who lived and worked there were beginning to sense the change too now. Faces that once held scowls softened to look at the broad expanse of blue sky above them, and shoulders that had rounded and hunched against bitter winter winds eased to feel sun against necks.

In the walled garden, green life was starting to stir. Ruby rushed in, trying to keep herself as small and unseen as possible, not wanting to draw attention to her lateness. Fortunately, Tanner, the head groundskeeper, had not yet made his morning round. Ducking into the alcove where she normally kept her tools, she found a rose, clumsily planted in a pot far too small for it. It was next to the tray of spring bulbs she'd selected for the newly approved flowerbeds. There was a note of instruction tucked just underneath, which she read before easing on the well worn leather gloves she'd been given before she left the place locally known as the Redcliffe Knot. They were a daily reminder of the people left behind. She shook her head to clear her mind of distractions. Get your head out of the clouds Ruby!

Moving across the grounds with the rose stacked precariously in the tray she crouched low, making a small well in the mineral rich soil of a flowerbed with her trowel. When she judged it the right size, she leaned across to gently ease the cutting from the too-small pot, teasing the roots out to rid them of clinging soil.

She examined the plant as she lowered it into the flowerbed. Bloody roses, she thought, the petals a luridly red shade, fading into orange around the edges. She'd never had time for them in the past, finding them temperamental. Maybe that was why they were so highly valued. However the Inquisitor himself had brought the plant back with him after an expedition, and she had been asked to care for it and ensure it thrived. Though right now Ruby could see no practical reason for it—the flower itself was lovely, yes, but it had no medical applications or uses within alchemy studies. Soon the rose was in the ground, the soil around it replaced.

The garden itself was calm today. It was still early in the day, and she could see the sun hitting the wall on the other side of the garden. Her surroundings were quiet, the ground coated with early morning dew. It was much easier to focus on what she was doing without the general noise of people in the background. Ruby stood up and straightened her legs, feeling the muscles groan and the blood rush back into her feet before she went to check on the creeping vine on one of the trellises. It was nice, calming work—seeing something grow from your own efforts. It always had been she supposed, remembering her father tending to his own small garden back at home, near Redcliffe. The memories of his hands, large, strong, yet always gentle whilst tending to the small piece of land he had been given made her smile. Da had taught her everything he could during her childhood, and she would forever be grateful to him for that. From which plants grew best in what soil, to coaxing life from even the most withered looking petals.

She would have to remember to write soon. Da couldn't read himself, but the innkeeper at The Gull and Lantern always helped him when she wrote home, and wrote back for her father. She was lucky he'd insisted she learn.

Securing the vines where necessary and clipping some of the old, dead ones back, she hummed a little to herself, a faraway tune she remembered from her childhood. Under her hands, what was once a wild, half dead mess of vegetation started to look semi-respectable. Some pieces snapped away in her hand, while others required more persuasion. Once the trellis had been properly tended, Ruby moved to check on the apothecary's plants in the far corner. The Inquisitor had insisted on the construction of the garden so that it not just be somewhere for people to come in times of peace, but that it also might have some practical use. And so, there was an area dedicated to the growth of plants with medicinal or other purposes—for the troops.

Felandaris, she noted to herself, is a bloody hardy, and bloody awful plant to work with. She was clipping it back when her thumb caught on a serrated thorn of the plant. She swore quietly to herself and stood, examining her thumb.

That's one big thorn, she winced as she removed it. It came away cleanly, though there was a dull throb in her thumb now. Removing her gloves to check, she could see the thumb in question was red, though fortunately not bleeding. She couldn't remember if Felandaris thorns were supposed to have any kind of troublesome side effects, aside from being bloody big and painful. She would have to check with the apothecary, wherever she was. She looked around- and nearly leapt from her skin.

Not six feet away there was a young man crouched on a bench, watching.

At least, she assumed he was a man. It was somewhat hard to tell—a large and comical hat obscured most of his features, but she could make out a painfully thin-looking jawline and lips. He was tall, and dressed in the shoddiest looking clothes she could ever remember seeing. When he realised she was looking back, he tensed.

"... Can I do something for you?" Defensiveness in her tone, she stared, not sure what she was waiting for.

The voice was soft, shy. A little soothing, she was surprised to find herself thinking.

"It didn't mean to. It likes the way you look after it, I think." Ruby arched an eyebrow quizzically.

"Sorry?"

"The plant. It didn't mean to. Hurt you, that is."

"No, it probably didn't. I've never heard of any plant that can actively prey on people. They probably have them in Tevinter, though. They have most things there." Her mind then caught up with her tongue, babbling. "No wait, hold on a minute—who are you? Were you watching me?"

The young man twitched, perhaps surprised he'd been caught.

"My name? Cole. I was watching the plants- gentle with your hands, you shape them and help them to grow. They grow because you want to help them. Like they want to make you proud."

That was definitely a little odd. Trying to think of something to say back, She reached into the large front pocket of her apron, feeling for the balm jar she kept there, moving aside the gardening shears and ties put there earlier. She found it, and pulled it out.

Cole seemed intrigued by the small object, and she noticed.

"It's a balm. The herbalist here makes it for me so that my hands heal a little faster." Removing her gloves, she scooped a small amount from the jar and approached him, to show him. "See?"

Ruby passed him the jar and then rubbed the balm in, enjoying the feeling as it soaked into her chapped, calloused hands, soothing the ache in her thumb. Cole was examining the glass in his hands, long fingers turning it this way and that, trying to catch the light with it.

"The apothecary likes you. Glad you're good at what you do, you make the plants yield well. You help save lives by making things grow."

Ruby beamed.

"That's very sweet of you to say, Cole."

He paused for a moment, then, curiously:

"What are you doing with them?" He looked at the large tray of bulbs behind her, the faintest tips of green shoots already making themselves known.

She quirked her head. Was he trying to show an interest? "Ah, well, in a minute I'll be going to prepare some of the plants. Apparently this year I've been given a bit more rein to plant more creatively, although..." She drifted off as she realised she'd been rambling, thinking about the bulbs blossoming later in the year.

"Green. New. Fresh. Shoots meet the air for the first time, embracing it. Then green turns to red, yellow, white. So many colours. People see them and think of home, places they've been to, Times that they've had. Sunsets. Sunrises. What makes them who they are. The colours become dull with age, they melt and mute and fade. You feel sad but it helps feed the ground for next year's shoots."

She blinked. How did he know that?

"Are you a gardener too?" Curiosity saturated her voice and she looked more intently at him. He looked somewhat familiar, but she couldn't place how.

"No, I—" He frowned to himself then, unsure what to say. Now she was paying attention to his face she could just about make out furrowed brows over blue eyes. Under all that hair he looked like he hadn't slept for weeks, and a pang of sympathy went through her.

A thought occurred to her then, a small smile forming on her face. "I could show you, if you like?" He gave a wide smile, and suddenly the tiredness she thought she'd seen disappeared.

"That would be—I think—yes?"

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

Half an hour later and they were rubbing dirt from their hands.

“They're already alive and growing. I wonder... If they're excited about what they'll be. Do you think they are?” Cole had been full of questions like this. Ruby had had a little trouble keeping up with them, until she asked him to repeat himself a few times, and then he'd started to make a kind of sense.

“Well, I hope so. I've been working on these little beauties for a few weeks now, keeping them stored in the dark. They need it you know, and the cold. Got lots of that here at the moment.” A chuckle escaped her lips at her personal joke, a low sound.

“You don't like the cold. The winter.” A statement, not a question. Ruby shrugged at his comment, as she clumsily put her shears back in her pocket. Blasted things don't want to stay where they're told today!

“Can't say I ever have really. Everything's asleep, or dead, and it gets too dark too quickly.”

“There's something else too though...” The thought seemed to trail off, as though he'd stumbled onto something forbidden. “I'm sorry. People don't like it when I see, sometimes it hurts, hurts that were long past causing pain like hundreds of pinpricks.” The melancholy note was back in Cole's voice, which seemed to match something indefinable and cold within Ruby's memories. Before she could follow the thread of that coldness Ruby had removed her gloves again and was rubbing her legs to bring some heat into them. She washed her hands after, looking across to see how Cole was doing.

He was staring down at the pots they'd planted bulbs in, almost like he was expecting them to sprout then and there. She laughed a little to herself.

"They're going to take a bit of time, you know."

He looked at her with a guileless expression, and she found herself looking away under his gaze. It was like he was trying to discern something even she didn't yet know. Ruby stammered.

"Uh...thanks for your h-help this morning." Maker, were her ears burning? She thought they were burning.

"I'm glad I helped. Helping people feels right." A simple statement, delivered with no trace of anything but happiness.

"So ah...Cole?" Still looking at the floor. "How are your hands, the work can be a bit tough on them sometimes."

When she looked up again he was examining his soil-stained skin as though he wasn't even aware of such an issue, though even she could see a few fresh scratches under the dirt on his already scarred hands. She sighed, and smiled as she reached into her smock pocket.

"Here..." In her hand was the jar of balm from earlier. "Take it, I can get another one from the apothecary later on."

He looked at the jar in her hand like it might bite at first. Tentatively he reached out and took the jar, holding it up to the light like before. "It feels like soothing, and home."

He beamed widely again, with no hint of self-consciousness. Ruby's own smile broadened, and then she felt her shears shift in her apron before clattering to the ground, again, from the large pocket in her smock. Swearing mildly, rather than unleashing her usual tirade of curses at the damned things, she crouched down to pick them up.

"Hey Cole, would you like to come back again some time? If you liked doing this I mean. I could...show you how to care from some of these plants? If you were interested?" Ruby groaned internally realising how strangely foolish she must sound, but—

No response.

When she looked up, he had gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Ranunculaceae is the latin name for plants categorised into the Buttercup family.


End file.
